


Respite

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [63]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 6: A Breath of Snow and Ashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-15 19:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18676264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: Prompt: I wonder what if Malva wasn´t killed and give birth to a son (I think in the book it was boy)?





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> *Realized I had posted two different fics under the same name (whoops) so I changed this one as it was the shorter of the two. This ficlet was previously called A Safe Haven

Claire found Jamie standing on the front porch looking into the distance. 

“She’s well?” he asked, unmoving. 

“She’s resting. Baby’s sleeping. Bree’s in there with her now.”

“Roger’s at the back and I’ve got Fergus and his lads keepin’ watch as well.”

“You don’t truly think Tom will cause trouble do you?” she asked. 

Jamie rolled his shoulders—not quite a shrug, more like he was limbering up, preparing for a fight. “I dinna ken but I do know what’s been festerin’ these last few months is goin’ to come to a head now the bairn’s here.”

Claire could still remember the day that Malva had confided in her, asked to be taken to Jamie where she’d gotten on her knees and begged for protection from her father and brother. Neither of them could bear to refuse her though Malva herself would say nothing of who the baby’s father was. There had been a great scene when they’d arrived, demanding to have Malva turned over to their care, hurling accusations when Jamie stood unyielding. 

“If she’ll not go wi’ ye willingly, then she’ll no be goin’ wi’ ye,” Jamie had declared publicly (Mrs. Bug and a few others saw to the hasty spreading of the news). 

It was the son, Allan, more than Tom Christie who stirred up trouble in the days and weeks after, but it was Jamie who had given so many on the Ridge the support they’d needed. He was the de facto laird and so even those who disagreed with him declined to take action against him. 

But that would change now the baby had come and Malva had confessed the truth during the pain and fear of a hard labor. 

Allan was the father, had been abusing Malva for at least a year before she’d fallen pregnant.

Claire felt Jamie tense and looked to the horizon. Tom Christie was walking toward them but he appeared to be alone. 

Tom stopped a dozen yards from the house and waited while Jamie and Claire looked at each other for a moment before descending and taking several steps toward him. 

“We had word her pains had started,” Tom remarked. 

“Ye have a grandson,” Jamie informed Tom in a flat voice. 

“And Malva? Is she…?” 

“She and the bairn are resting. No up to visitors, I’m afraid, and she’s no said whether or no she wants to see ye. But from what she’s told us of what was happenin’ under yer roof, I doubt very much she will.” 

Tom’s brow furrowed and the lines around his mouth tightened. “Ye think a lass as managed to get herself into the sort of disgrace she did can be trusted wi’ the truth?” 

“You really think so little of your daughter…” Claire spat at Tom taking a step toward him only to encounter Jamie’s arm urging her back. 

“Ye think ye ken my daughter?” Tom challenged. “If ye did, ye’d ken better than to heed a word she says, especially when the alternative is to admit she did somethin’ wrong or face the consequences of her own actions.”

“And what would the lass have to gain by accusin’ her own brother of bein’ father to her bairn?” Jamie asked, his voice low and even so as not to carry further than it needed to reach Tom. 

Tom blinked in surprise and confusion, then paled. 

“I must see her and speak wi’ her,” Tom insisted, desperation and horror in his voice. 

“No on yer own, ye won’,” Jamie informed him. “And no if she doesna want to see ye.” 

Tom’s gaze shifted from Jamie to Claire, imploring her silently. 

“I’ll go tell her he’s here,” Claire whispered to Jamie, whose head rose and fell by the barest fraction. 

She found Brianna changing the baby while Malva watched, a hollow look to her as she sat propped against the pillows. 

“How’s everyone doing?” Claire asked with enforced cheer. 

“He’s feeling better now,” Brianna replied smiling at the newborn’s red face and carrying him over for Claire to see. “She doesn’t appear to want anything to do with him,” Brianna whispered, her concern evident. “He cried and she didn’t even flinch.” 

“Alright.” Claire took the baby from Brianna and settled him in her arm. He was healthy. A good weight and size. There was nothing to indicate that he suffered any birth defects—no murmurs she’d been able to detect, his reflexes were good, he reacted to external stimuli… No one would know by looking at him who his father had been. No one except his mother. And if she had been forced as Claire suspected… 

It wasn’t fair. To either of them. And there was nothing that could be done to set it right. The only way forward was through. And she and Jamie would help Malva and her child get through it in whatever way they could. 

“Your father has come to see you,” Claire announced, her attention remaining on the baby in her arms. She registered the sudden return of Malva’s awareness in her peripheral vision. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to… but he came alone.”

“Ye told him… didn’t you.” Malva’s accusation was flat, resigned. 

“We made him aware of the larger situation as far as we know it,” Claire admitted. “But you’re the only one who can tell him the full story… or as much of it as you’re comfortable sharing. And you don’t have to be alone with him—or see him at all—if you don’t want to.” 

Malva sat staring into the distance, contemplating. 

“He can see the bairn if he wants but I dinna want to see him,” she declared at last. “No yet.” She slipped down from the pillows and rolled onto her side facing the wall. 

“I’ll stay with her,” Brianna whispered to Claire, who took the baby with her. 

“I’m so sorry, little one,” she murmured to the wriggling infant as she checked his swaddling blankets. “It’s your fault least of all. But I’ve got you, whatever else might happen,” she promised, steeling herself to step outside and face Tom Christie. “You have a place here if you need it, whatever your mother decides.”


End file.
